my head hurts I should probably go to sleep but I can't stop thinking about you

in school they teach you the basics like math english history science but one thing they dont teach you is how to love and accept yourself and at school they teach you math but they don't teach you how to stop adding the imperfections and at school they give you prompts to practice writing essays but they forget to give you real life scenarios to practice for the life ahead of you and at school they teach you about how cruel the world used to be but they don't tell you about how cruel it will be and at school they make you memorize and repeat the periodic table but they don't tell you to memorize the words "i am beautiful" because in school your grades define you even though in the real world you aren't going to need math english history or science the only thing you'll need is love and acceptance.

I walk in the shadows of the girls with the flowing hair and the perfectly concealed eyes. against them I am a mess with tangled knots and gray bags hanging low to show that I have stayed up for too long listening to the voices in my head. my weight is composed of a thousand words that will never be spoken, for I am too afraid of saying the wrong thing. Don't lie and tell me that you can detect no visible imperfections because that is not what I want to look like. All over I want to be the tangled knots and graying bags and I want to prove that you don't have to measure up to society's standards to be beautiful. I want to be so inevitably flawed that you cannot help but stare at how real I look. I know I am an incurable wreck, but that is what I aim to be. I want to be labeled as beautiful not because of the shade of lipstick I might wear, but because of the growing passion in my heart. I am a whirlwind of good intentions but bad executions, but at the end of the day I can promise you that you will never find an imperfect person that could love as perfectly as I do

my life is one long harsh winter but when I talk to you the clouds clear out and the birds start to sing and the flowers start growing again and you make summer a possibility

SOMETIMES I GET SAD AND ANGRY BECAUSE YOURE THE BRIGHTEST STAR IN MY UNIVERSE BUT IM JUST A SPECK OF DUST IN YOURS